Dark Times
by Lizzie-Lou
Summary: Sam, Dean and Bobby get an unexpected visitor who could turn the brother's already fragile relationship upside down once again. Set in season 5, going 'off peak' as it were from after EP 5.2. Dean/Jo and Sam/Jo.
1. Chapter 1

Dark Times - by Lizzie Lou

I own nothing…original character's by Eric Kripke

Chapter One

The phone made him jump. It was in his chest pocket so he wouldn't miss a call from Sam and it was now vibrating in sync with the Zeppelin track.

Ipod still blaring, Dean put down the empty take-out coffee beaker full of cigarette butts and pulled out his headphones.

"What?" he said rudely, his face frowning. He gets one God-damn minute to chill out and someone already wants something. No caller ID either.

"It's Jo, Dean." With the frown still on his face Dean got up from the bed. He thought about how Sam was gonna nag when he got back 'cos the room stank of stale tobacco. He opened the window a little.

"Jo. _Harvell_…?" The voice sounded pissed at the lack of recognition and response.

"Yeah, Jo, I know - why are you calling me?" Dean automatically looked out the motel window and checked the car park. Sam had taken the Impala to the Redbridge road industrial estate earlier, wanting to check on some guy. According to the Police radio, the dip-shit reported he saw a 'tattooed weirdo' stalking the place and Sam had gotten it into his head that a Ginn was in town. He'd taken Bobby so Dean wasn't too worried. Yet.

There was silence on the other end of the phone but Dean could still hear her breathing. "Jo?"

"It's my mom, Dean. She…..she's dead. Last night. Shot. In the head. For her fucking purse. Some piece of shit killed my mom for her purse."

He could hear her choking back, voice almost failing, trying to keep it together. Dean sat back down on the bed, running his hand through his cropped hair. Ellen was tough, old school. She'd been through a hell of a lot. She didn't'deserve to go down like that. Not like _that. _"We're in Springfield, Illinois. Bobby's here." Dean wasn't sure what it was she wanted him to say. They'd seen each other, what, twice in the past three years and he could only think that maybe she needed to be with the old man. Bobby and Ellen had history.

She had know one else now, he figured.

"I'm sorry to do this, but I…" Jo said, pausing. "Can I come over in the morning?"

"Maybush, room 16. We're headed out tomorrow, but…" he really wasn't sure this was such a good idea.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I…"

"I know, Jo. Look, it's okay. Just….I'll see you in the morning." He hung up and turned off the music still playing in the background, like a movie track. He sighed heavily, eyes closing. Jesus. Poor Ellen. But as selfish as he knew it was, he really didn't need this shit right now. He was truly sorry about Ellen, she was a good hunter and a smart lady, but the thought of Jo coming here with her grief was not something he wanted to have to deal with. Too much had happened, too much was going on around them. This time was for the survivors, for those who were still here and still fighting.

And then of course there was Sam to worry about. There was _always_ Sam to worry about….

And besides all that, it was just a little too close for comfort. Losing a parent? He could write a book about it. Way too close to home for door clicked open and Bobby came in with a bucket of chicken and some Beers under his arm.

"Thought you'd be chomping at the bit by now" he said putting it on the table and taking off his jacket. He stopped to look at Dean. "What's gotten up your ass?"

Shit. You see, this is exactly why he wished Jo hadn't called here. Already it had started, the angsty crap. And who was having to deal with it? Him. Of course. "Got some news, Bobby. Jo called. It's Ellen." Sam walked in and sat down on the bed, taking off his shoes.

"What's going on?"

"Jo's coming here tomorrow. Ellen was shot, robbed, last night. She didn't make it Bobby, I'm sorry." Bobby looked stunned for a moment, not moving. Then he turned, picked his jacket back up and walked out, slamming the door.

"Jesus." Dean looked at Sam. "He's gonna take this hard."

"What happened?" Sam moved over to his lap top on the table, thinking somehow he would be able to make more sense of it if he could look something up.

Dean shrugged. "Jo just said she got robbed. Don't know any more details, didn't ask."

Sam looked confused. "You don't sound all that happy about her coming here. Hey - why _is_ she coming here?"

"Cos Bobby's all she has now, I guess." He sighed. "You getting anything?" Sam started trailing through the online news stories looking for something to start joining up the bits of information they already had. This is how _he_ dealt with things.

"God. Yeah, local news reporting the point blank shooting of a woman, 48, found with a fatal gun shot wound to her temple. 17 year old been arrested, found with her purse…."

"Don't tell me - with like, ten fucking dollars or something?" Dean shook his head. "That's just screwed up, man."

Sam closed the lap top respectfully. "Like you always say, Dean it's people who are hardest to figure. Jo must be in a bad way." Dean moved to the kitchen area and got out two chipped coffee mugs. He waved a half empty bottle of whisky at Sam who nodded. They sat opposite each other at the table & Dean pushed the drink towards his brother, lighting up a cigarette. Figured Sam wouldn't moan under the circumstances. He emptied it in one swig and poured another. Down the hatch.

"Sometimes…..I just wanna be next, you know? Just so's I don't have to see anybody else buy it. I'm so sick of this, Sam." He poured another but this time just sat staring into it. Sam looked back at him and watched him light another cigarette. Dean took everything hard these days. Burnt out, used up, finished.

"What d'you think Bobby will do?" He deliberately ignored Dean's death wish. Heard it so many times now…

"Won't see him for a while, is my guess. Doesn't exactly go in for 'group hugs'. Not sure Jo 's gonna find it much help being here if Bobby's split."

"Kinda strange she wants to come here, though. I mean, we're not exactly close." Dean studied his brothers face.

"You still feel weird round her since the possession, don't you?" he smirked, remembering how amused he'd been that Sam had allowed Meg to invade him like that.

"_**Dude, you totally had a chick inside you for like, a week - that's just naughty"**_

Sam shook his head "Well wouldn't you? I mean, come on Dean, I nearly…I could have…well you know…." Sam got up, the smoke starting to sting his eyes.

"But it wasn't even you Sam! Jo, of all people gets that. Besides - nothing happened." Dean was always curious why Sammy felt so bad about the thing with Jo. I mean, sure it had been bad but not _that_ bad. He'd done a hell of a lot worse since.

"I just don't get why she is coming here, is all. And why'd she call you? Why not Bobby?" Dean considered this. Sam had a point. If it was Bobby she wanted to be with why'd she not just called him? He stubbed out his cigarette and swallowed the last of his drink.

"Gotta take a leak" he said, moving across the motel room. "Oh, and if she wants to stay here, you can bunk up with her cos I, my brother, am not." He noticed a look come across Sam's face. He knew that look. "Hey - are you sweet on her or something?"

Sam's face immediately flushed. "Fuck off, Dean" he said trying unsuccessfully to move out of Dean's eyesight.

"Holy shit - that's it, isn't it? You have the hots for her!" Dean can't believe he hasn't figured this out before now.

"Right. And that's just hilarious to you, isn't it Dean? Because this is exactly the time we should be making jokes about Jo. Her mom's just been murdered, dude!" Sam stood up, hands on hips, trying hard to look affronted.

Dean laughed loudly and poked his brother in the stomach. "Now your just deflecting 'cos I've found you out, little brother!" He continued to laugh as he reached the bathroom, just in time to duck Sam's shoe as it fly's towards him.

"Screw you,dude." Sam said, embarraced. Dean smiled devilishly.

"Bitch!" he said slamming the bathroom door.

"Jerk!" Sam flopped onto the bed, head in hands, as he heard Dean continue to laugh through the door.

Asshole.


	2. Chapter 2

Dark Times - by Lizzie Lou

Chapter Two

A gentle knock on the door was enough to wake Sam. He'd gone back to sleep after Dean left abruptly at 6am, saying something about having to go get them coffee. Yeah right, cos Dean was always the first up to go get coffee…

He pulled on some pants and opened the door. Jo looked surprised to see him which was odd. "Sam." she said, walking past him. She threw a small holdall on the bed and sat down at the table, looking round the room.

"Jo. Sorry about your mom and everything." Sam said, awkwardly. What else could he say? He wished Dean was here. Typical of him to bail. And where the hell was Bobby? "Have you….made any arrangements yet or…" Lame.

"You got anything to drink?" A reasonable request but despite having a kitchen area they never bothered to get any provisions except liquor. Never been any reason to.

Till now.

Sam went over to the small hob anyway. "No, sorry…err…'cept this?" he waved the almost empty scotch bottle at her. "Dean went out, said he would bring some coffee..." He looked at his watch. "About four hours ago……sorry."

"It's okay, Sam. Don't keep apologising. I'm okay." Jo ran a tired hand over her tangled blonde hair. She looked awful. Black marks under her eyes, lips cracked and pale, clothes grubby from being on the road. Not the girl he last saw in Colorado. "The Coroner won't release the body any time soon. Till the investigation ends."

"Of course." He wanted to ask more about the details but figured this wasn't the time. To Sam everything was in the detail. "How'd you get here anyways?" He moved over to the dresser to get some clean towels and the packets of soap & shampoo Dean had stashed.

"Hitched."

"Oh." Sam nodded, pushing his hands down in his pockets. He was usually good at this but somehow he had never felt less equipped. "You wanna go clean up? " He leaned past her and placed the towels on the table. " Might make you feel better…." Jo looked at him for the first time.

"Yeah, that'll make everything better." she said curtly, then sighed. "Sorry. Yeah, that would be good. It's been a long night." She took the towels and her holdall and moved towards the bathroom door. "Bobby?" she said over her shoulder "Where's he at?"

Sam bit his lip. "He kinda left. Last night. He seemed pretty cut up, Jo. And you know Bobby, he doesn't like an audience." Jo nodded. Yeah, she knew Bobby would take it badly. "But he knows you were headed here so I'm sure he'll call."

Jo closed the door behind her and leaned up against it. She heard Sam say he would head over to the diner to find Dean.

Her eyes immediately filled with tears. Finally, she felt safe enough to cry and as she heard him leave, she broke completely, sliding down to her knees, the sobs spilling out of her uncontrollably.

What the hell was she going to do?

------------------------------

Bobby took the keys from the ignition and sat looking out at the ocean, the morning sun hidden behind dark clouds. Apocalyptic looking. He smiled to himself. There were very few things to keep him getting up in the morning, with what he knew was coming. Ellen was one of those things. No romance - her and Jo had just become a part of his life, like the boys had.

Family. They made things just a little easier to bare.

But now? With Ellen taken from them, he felt a heaviness in his heart like he'd just never felt before. This God - he wanted no part of a war with _this_ God - who allowed so much crap to fall onto good people.

With is wife he could see a point, a purpose, to what happened. As hard as it had been to come to terms with what he'd done to her, he could see the way ahead. Learn all he could about the evil bastards who'd got inside her and then work out exactly how to kill 'em.

Become the expert, arm up and fight these demon sons of bitches. He did it, John did it.

Ellen did it……

But how do you fight this? A war where there are no rules and know one is safe, good or bad. Chaos. How do you legislate for that?

Jo was looking for something from him. He knew her well enough to know she'd be mightily pissed off to think Bobby thought she needed his help but she was just a kid. As hard as she thought she was, she cried herself to sleep like the rest of them and she needed people. Needed him to keep the 'family' together.

But he just wasn't sure he had it in him to take on another person to protect.

Another person he could lose….

Bobby sighed heavily as he took a pen out from his breast pocket and began to write.

-----------------------------

Jo came out of the bathroom, dressed but hair in a towel, to find Sam coming back from the diner.

"No sign of Dean." He said apologetically, throwing the room key down on the side.

"So Bobby _and_ Dean have split? Great. Nothing like the grieving to ruin a party. How come you're back?" Jo rubbed the towel a couple more times then threw it on the floor by the bed.

"Just stupid I guess." Sam smiled sheepishly, hoping that she would understand he meant nothing mean by this.

Jo softened slightly. "Look Sam, I didn't mean to come here and make things difficult." She took a hair brush from out of her bag.

"Why did you come, Jo?" Sam searched her face for some kind of hint. "I mean…it's no problem, don't get me wrong but…. I'm just not sure this is the best place for you right now. There's a lot of shit going down round here at the moment and as usual Me & Dean are sitting right in the middle of it."

Jo laughed insincerely. "You think I give a crap about all this? The apocalypse? End of days?" She stood up, pointing the brush at him menacingly. "My mom just got killed. By some little teenage shit who _just _needed enough money for some Ketamine so he could get high. Horse tranquilizer, Sam. Fucking horse tranquilizer! If this is the world we live in then Iet it end. NOW!" Jo was breathing heavily and although tears were streaming down her cheeks, she was not crying.

Sam moved to comfort her but she immediately pulled away. "Don't." she said through her teeth, turning from him. He stopped, feeling totally useless and sat back down. The silence was palpable.

Then the door opened and, thank God, in walked Dean. Or rather the stench of liquor, followed by Dean.

"Well hello all" he said, smiling his biggest, sexiest smile. His movements were very exaggerated, very deliberate and he was obviously very, very drunk.

"Dude, you've got to be kidding. It's like, 10.30 in the morning Dean!" Sam looked utterly appalled.

Dean completely ignored him, and walked carefully over to his bed. "Sorry I wasn't part of the welcoming party. Hot date with a chick called Vermouth…"

The last part of his sentence was muffled into the pillow as Dean flopped onto his bed.

Both Sam and Jo stared at the back of his head, waiting for something more, but nothing came. He'd passed out.

"Jesus, Dean…." Sam looked up, "He's such a jerk, Jo I'm sorry……"

Jo's face remained totally blank and unreadable as she continued to stare at Dean's now snoring figure.

This is the man she had needed to seek out in her hour of need, the man - like her father - who was strong and brave and could protect her, maybe even love her some day. He was her last hope, the only thing she had left to hold on to.

There. Lying face down on his motel bed. Drunk. At 10.30am.

--------------------------------------------------

_Authors note: Just in case there are any thoughts of me being a Dean hater, please let me reassure you I ADORE Dean, I'm just dealing with some of the less desirable ways he has learned to cope under pressure! Please bare with me!!!_


	3. Chapter 3

Dark Times - chapter three

Dean was awake. Or rather he was suddenly aware of being no longer unconscious. What time was it? Where was he? Why did he feel so sick? What was that insane banging noise?

He lay still, trying to work out whether or not he should open his eyes. He had a sense that something was not quite right. A sense like you get in a 'morning after' kinda way, that you may have done something really really bad and that the minute you _do_ open your eyes, you will have it confirmed that you are, indeed, in a whole heap of shit.

Dean figured it was therefore best to lie there for a bit longer till he could work out a) What he have done this time and b) How to minimise the damage.

He went over what he could remember whilst trying to breath through waves of nausea. Motel in Illinois with Sam….it had been morning..….Ellen killed…..Jo coming……he went out early for coffee …..

Dean's eyes flew open and he sat up.

Oh God.

Then, as an excruciating pain shot through his head and his mouth began to water in anticipation of yesterday's remnants coming back up to say hi, he noticed Jo sitting on the edge of the bed opposite, her back to him.

"Morning Princess." Her voice sounded older, hard.

"Jo….I…I…..I'm gonna puke..." Dean ran into the bathroom slamming the door behind him. He hadn't noticed Sam laying on a makeshift bed next to his.

"A class act, my brother, no?" Sam shook his head as he stood up and began folding the blankets away. "I don't know any other human being who can sleep _that _many hours, drunk or not." Retching sounds filtered across the room like an audio airfreshner. "That's just nasty, man."

"You sleep okay on that thing?" Jo still didn't turn round and Sam wondered how she would be today. She seemed a bit more together this morning maybe? Better than yesterday.

After Dean had come back they'd left him and gone out for breakfast. Jo was quiet and Sam had felt uncomfortable, like he had nothing to say except dumb comments about the weather and how nice the curtains were in the diner.

But then Jo started asking questions about Dean and they'd actually had a laugh about his entrance earlier. It had been nice. Sam began to feel a little easier about being alone with her, as the main topic of conversation had then been Dean and his incredible immaturity, Dean and his ability to do exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time, Dean and his Darwinistic food choices and Dean's alcohol & cigarette consumption.

In fact, on reflection Sam realised pretty much all they talked about for most of the day, was Dean.

But that was okay. It seemed to help Jo _not_ to talk about her mom and although, thinking about it, Sam would rather his brother didn't dominate every conversation in his life, it had been kind of fun to divulge some of his most embracing and humiliating moments.

And Dean had _so_ many of those.

Then out of the blue last night, Jo had opened up and told him why she'd come to their Motel. She told him she now felt completely alone and that they were the only people who she felt she could be herself with, like family.

They'd talked about her leaving college despite Ellen being majorly pissed about it, and how she'd felt like a freak the whole time she'd been there anyway.

Sam had connected with that.

He recognised the person she was describing and was curious about how this girl had coped. He'd always had Dean to look out for him, watch his back, keeping it real.

Sam then felt a huge sense of love for his dumb-ass older brother. He was an idiot, but he was a good guy.

The plan had been to leave today to follow up another job in Kentucky with Bobby. But after speaking to Jo, Sam wasn't sure what they'd do now. With Bobby still MIA he'd have to check with Dean.

When Dean finally got himself together.

He'd tried to get Jo to consider what is was she was getting into if she hung with them. "We're fucked up, Jo. You have no idea." He tried not to make her feel like he was pushing her away but wanted her to realise they were probably not the best people to buddy up with right now. "Dean's been through a lot - he's not gonna be keen to take you along with us, you know that right?"

She told him she knew about hell and how Castiel had bought him back. But she remained determined. "I can fight! This is what I do now, _have_ been doing up until.….I can be with you on this - I'm not looking for a free ride Sam - I've spent months training up, Bobby will tell you. I'm ready to do this."

She'd looked more determined than he'd ever seen her. Focused. Driven, beautiful…

Sam told her he needed to speak to Dean before they could make any plans. But he already knew exactly what Dean was going to say.

The bathroom door opened suddenly and Sam was bought back from his thoughts. Dean stood, leaning against the frame, cigarette already lit and balanced in the corner of his mouth, left hand laying across his forehead, Jeans just about hanging unbuttoned on his hips, T-shirt obviously removed due to splash-back.…

Sam looked at Jo with a grin, but his face fell as he saw that instead of sharing his amusement, she was looking at Dean like he was the most gorgeous man ever to walk the earth. It lasted only a moment and then as she realised Sam was looking at her, it was gone, replaced by her more usual scathing contempt.

But Sam had seen it.

He threw a clean shirt at his brother and pushed passed him. "Seriously dude, if you've trashed this bathroom, you can fucking clean it up, Dean."

Dean moved slowly towards the table, still making no eye contact with anyone, a few small gravely moans escaping in between the smoke.

Jo went over to her holdall and retrieved a box of Headex. She pushed them towards him and filled a mug of water from the sink. Another groan from Dean which she took to be a thank you. Sam came back out and sat opposite him, having dragged the chair noisily across the tiled floor. Dean's face screwed up in pain and this time Jo & Sam smiled together.

With a sigh, Sam said "We're gonna go get some breakfast - what shall we have Jo? Deep fried pork sandwich served in a dirty ash tray maybe?" She chuckled, putting on her jacket.

Dean looked up at Sam with pure, unashamed hate as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Get me coffee," he said.

"Please!" Jo said, eye brow raised, hand on hip.

Dean mouthed the word 'please' looking up at her like a lost puppy. She nodded and as they went through the door to the outside balcony Sam made a point of slamming the door as loud as he possibly could.

Dean shuddered and gently lay his head down on his hands.

Life sucked.


	4. Chapter 4

Dark Times by Lizzie-Lou – Chapter Four

Okay, get it together Dean. Come on.

He wandered outside the motel room, along the landing and down the stairs to where the Impala was parked. The sun was brighter than ever and he wished he had his shades. Sam had left them on the driver's seat the day before yesterday and he'd of course sat on them. Nice ones too – swiped them from a swanky store in Miami. What a dope.

His baby sat waiting, shiny and pert from her recent valet. Special treat to mark the anniversary of Dad finally handing over the keys.

God he loved his car.

But as he got nearer he noticed something stuck to the driver's side window. Dear God, what was it? His steps quickened as he rounded the bonnet. Then he stopped breathing.

A large Disney Princess sticker was placed, upside down, smack in the middle of the glass.

Written on the sticker, in thick black pen was:

Rodeo Diner - corner of main!

Dean stood motionless, hands spread out as he took in the horror of it all, afraid to move.

Sam. Sam had done this. Sam had put this.... _this ....._on his car? On the Impala. How could he?

Dean slowly started breathing again but felt like his throat was actually closing up with each inhilation. He slid down to sit on the curb in order to gather himself and lit a cigarette. After several long deep drags, he became aware of repeating a single word, over and over, like a mantra.

Calm.

...............................

Sam noticed Jo was eating much better today as he sat opposite her slight frame. She looked better too – obviously having slept well and the black marks under her eyes were gone.

"You're staring, Sam." She chewed on her pancakes and waved her folk at him. "Something on your mind?"

He smiled. "Sorry. I was just thinking how much better you looked today." Jo carried on eating and Sam took a swig of his coffee.

"You remember when you came to find me down in Duluth?" Sam's stomach turned over. He wondered when they were going to have to talk about this.

"Yeah. About that, Jo...I...."

"Don't sweat it Sam, I was only gonna to say that it was weird you coming onto me like that." She poured some syrup over a small piece of pancake sitting in the middle of her plate and sucked a drop off her thumb from the sticky bottle. "Should have known you weren't..._you,_" she finished, matter of factly.

Sam frowned. "How come?"

Jo looked up again. "Well, you know. That's not like you. And with Dean and everything." She seemed a little flustered all of a sudden.

"Huh?"

Jo put down her knife and fork and took a sip of milk. She seemed like she needed a moment to consider her reply."It was just weird for you to come without Dean, is all."

Sam was sure this wasn't what she'd meant to say but didn't want to push it right now.

He decided to laugh it off. "Yeah, 'cos little Sammy can't do anything without his big brother holding his hand - even when he's possessed." He rolled his eyes and went to reached for the check.

Jo was quicker. "Got it, " she said moving out of the booth. She saw him getting ready to refuse and added "I told you Sam, I'm not expecting a free ride here."

Sam figured she needed to do this to prove her point but made a mental note that if she was going to spend time with them on the road, they were going to have to sort her out some credit cards.

Could come in handy being able to use a female name to scam for a change. He smiled to himself as he considered some of the fake names they could use...

"Oh yeah. I'd be smiling Sam. I'd be smiling if I had _defaced_ an object of beauty, an object so precious that it should be, quite frankly, in a car _museum_. I'd smile, really." Dean was standing over him, face like thunder.

"Morning." Sam said sheepishly. Maybe the sticker _had_ been a step too far.

Dean sat down opposite and glared at his brother. "Dude, you got a problem with me then fine. But never _never_ touch the Impala." He accentuated the second 'never' by pointing an unlit cigarette in Sam's face. Sam knocked it away snapping it in half.

"Alright man, I'm sorry. It's just you've been such a jerk the past couple of days." The waitress came over and poured a coffee for Dean. She hovered over him a little longer than necessary as he looked up at her and provided his most devilish smile.

"Can I please have some bacon and a side of your best sausage?" he said and Sam felt like his teeth would rot in his head if he had to listen to any more. "Oh and pancakes - short stack. " She nodded attentively and put some cutlery down in front of him, making sure he got a good look at her chest on the way down.

Dean of course took full advantage of the situation. "Err.. Cherrie…. is it? I have a sister called Cherrie but she's not as pretty as you - could I get a bread roll with that…?" Cherrie scuttled away and Sam had no doubt that Dean would soon be served the best breakfast it was possible to make with a side order of phone number to go with.

"I'll go clean off the sticker, okay? " he got up and moved round to Dean's side of the booth, leaning forward to add "Snow White was a genius touch though, you gotta admit."

"Yeah yeah." Dean said dismissively, "Just don't leave any marks on the glass!"

He sipped his coffee and turned round to look for a paper to read. As he turned back, Jo was sitting in front of him.

"Jesus!" he said abruptly, "Where the hell did you come from?"

Jo chewed her lip as she studied his face. "Charming as ever, Dean." He just smiled broadly. Then 'Cherrie' arrived with his gigantic meal and all but laid the napkin across his lap. Then she spotted Jo and her face dropped. She also 'dropped' the napkin she was holding and made a hasty retreat saying something about needing to get a clean one.

"So." Jo said.

"So." Dean replied, shoving half an English breakfast sausage in his mouth.

"Well, I've been here two days Dean and this is the longest conversation we've had. Is there a problem here?" She pulled her jacket around her defensively.

Dean continued to chew. Then swallow. Then take another bite.

Jo shook her head and started to get up. "Okay, Dean. I get the message." As she moved to go past him, Dean grabbed her arm.

"Jo, look sit down, I'm sorry okay." She didn't move. "Please Jo, I'm sorry, honestly, sit down a minute." She considered him for a moment longer and then got back into her seat.

"Why do you always have to be such an asshole, Dean? You make everything so difficult…" She folded her arms crossly.

For the first time since she got here, he looked directly at her. "Maybe because I _am_ an asshole." He pushed away his meal as though his appetite had suddenly vanished. "You know, Bobby couldn't handle it either - that's why he bailed too." As he finished the sentence he realised just how bad that sounded and rushed to explain, "I mean - Ellen dying like that? What it must be like for you? It's too close man, too raw. I couldn't deal with it, so I did the thing I do best." He sniffed. "Drink Beer."

He rubbed his hand across his face. "You remember when we first met, that time at the Roadhouse, after my Dad passed?" Jo nodded. "I told you things were no good for you and me."

"I remember. Wrong time wrong place."

"Yeah, well this is exactly why I said that Jo. I'm the guy who goes out and gets fall-down drunk in a bar rather than be there for a friend, rather than have to listen."

"Sam told me about what happened to you, Dean. You've been through some major shit. It hasn't exactly been easy for you either...."

"Don't make excuses for me Jo, okay?" he interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry about the past couple of days, I am. But knowing Sam, he's more than made up for my dumb ass and maybe you can go back feeling a little less like you're on your own with this."

Jo stared at him, trying to swallow down the huge lump that was developing in her throat. She knew it was going to be difficult to persuade him she should stay with them, be with them in this fight, but she was beginning to see she actually didn't have a hope in hell.

She took a deep breath. "I'm not going back, Dean. Sam said I could go with you to the next job - a sort of trial - to prove to y'all I'm up to what's coming."

She paused, watching his face slowly change from slightly awkward to angry as hell.

What in God's name was she doing? Sam had made it clear over and over last night that Dean needed to be consulted about this and that he couldn't make any promises. He's gonna to throw a fit when he hears this.

"Hang on. Sam said what, exactly?" Dean was reaching inside his wallet having checked the bill, plate of food barely touched.

"That I could go with you." Jo said in a very quiet voice.

Dean stood up shaking his head, leaving a twenty on the table. "No. No. No no no no. No way. Nope. Not happening." Dean continued to say this as he went through the doors out of the diner and into the street. He stopped to light up, still managing to shake his head while doing it.

Cherrie watched him go, then looked back at Jo, wide eyed.

Jo got up too, smiling sweetly at her on the way past.

Bitch.


	5. Chapter 5

Dark Side - Chapter Five

Dean slammed through the motel room door. "Sam!" he yelled, looking around for the keys to the Impala which were gone - as was the Impala.

"Damn it, where is he? "

Jo walked in behind. "Look it's not such a crazy idea Dean, will you calm the fuck down please and listen?" She reached over to pull him round to face her. She'd never seen him this mad.

He pushed her off him like a kid in a tantrum. "The answer is no, Jo…and I don't give a shit what Sam promised, you hear?"

"Why?" Now _she _was pissed. "You think you and Sam corner the market on hunting? Huh? You think you're the only ones who can handle it? Well screw you, Buddy. I've been around hunting all my life so give me a fucking break, will you?"

He was pacing round the room like an alley cat and she let out a cry of frustration, "Jeez! Will you please just stop and listen to me!"

He did stop, took an exaggerated breath and looked back at her. By the look on Jo's face right now she was either going to cry or slap him.

He quite liked the idea of a slap, actually….

Jo sat down at the table and motioned for him to do the same. He pouted, then sat down too, but his body was turned mostly away from her in a deliberately childish manner.

Jo closed her eyes in dismay. "What are you, four?" He glared at her, then reluctantly turned round. "Thank you. So here's the deal. My Mom is gone. I need to keep hunting. Bobby's been getting me ready for months - for months, Dean. I'm fit, strong and faster that you with a shotgun. Guaranteed."

She saw his eyes narrow and knew he was gonna call her up on that later. "Bobby wanted me ready so we could join ranks. Yes, it was meant to be with mom too but hey - that didn't work out, did it." Her voice faltered, but only slightly.

She put her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her father's knife. "I'm not looking for you and Sam to carry me and I don't need your protection, your pity or any other male chauvinist crap. This is business - our business - hunting. And I want in." She slammed the knife into the table.

Dean stared at it and then back at her but said nothing, poker face well and truly on.

Sam came through the door and stopped dead. He could feel the tension in the room and looked at Dean, then Jo, then back at Dean. He guessed that Jo must have broached the subject of her coming with them to Kentucky then….

"Hey, guys. Everything okay?" He put the car keys down next to Dean.

Dean stood up, grabbed the keys and pushed passed, taking his cigarettes out and slamming the door behind him.

Sam looked at Jo questioningly. She just sighed. "Your brother's such an ass." she said as she extracted the knife and put it back into her jacket.

"And what did the table do?" Sam said as he moved his fingers across the large split left on it's surface.

"I lied Sam. Told Dean you'd already said yes to me. I'm sorry."

Sam turned to look at her, his mouth open. "Well, that explains why he's so pissed!"

"I know! I know! But he's so against the idea I didn't know what else to say!" She looked down at her hands, her shoulders slumped. "I…I just need this, Sam…I don't have anywhere else to go."

For the first time since Jo arrived, she let him see her vulnerable, hurting.

He knew she'd been trying to appear strong, trying to keep it together, but she'd just lost her mom, the only person she had. Sam figured she needed to put on a front for her own preservation and if she wanted to make out like it was all part of some big game plan, then fine. But this? This was how she really felt.

She needed help. Needed family.

"I'll talk to him."

Jo got up and walked over to Sam. She was so tiny compared to his huge frame. She looked up and half smiled but as he leaned down to her it felt awkward as he almost lifted her off her feet without any effort at all. She hugged him tight and he thought he could smell lavender in her hair. The contact was brief but Sam could feel her heart beating.

Or was it his?

"Thanks. Sam, I mean it….thank you." her eyes filled a little but she quickly broke away, not wanting him to see. That moment had passed.

He nodded and went to find Dean outside.

------------------------------------

Dean was sitting in the Impala, cigarette on the go, listening to something loud, hands tapping the steering wheel. He'd inspected the window and could find no fault with it but decided he'd have another go at Sammy anyway, just out of principle.

And what the hell was he thinking telling Jo she could ride with them! So they could be the demon-hunting equivalent of the fucking Brady Bunch?

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Dean that Sam had a huge 'thing' for Jo and this was not conducive to a good working relationship. Besides, since when did some chick get to ride with the brothers? That just _not _how they roll.

But as Dean took another drag, he acknowledged that this wasn't just some 'chick'. It was Jo. And for whatever reason, that made it different.

Damn. He shook his head. Still, he didn't want her around, messing with their heads, looking all blonde and feisty, thinking she's the new fucking Buffy. Faster with a shotgun than him? Yeah, right. We'll see about that.

But despite himself he couldn't help thinking that was actually _really_ hot.

He quickly dismissed this thought and threw the cig butt out the open window.

"Hey! Would it kill you to use the ashtray, Dean?" Sam brushed ash from his boot and looked at him disapprovingly.

"Do you have any idea how gay you sound right now, Sammy?" Dean smirked, then putting on his most effeminate voice said, "And are those matching socks you're wearing with those loafers today, 'cos I'd just love to know how you manage to coordinate so well…"

"Okay - an asshole and a homophobe? Good call, dude." Sam moved round the car and got in the passenger seat.

Laughing, Dean turned to look at his brother. "Well, this is nice." he said, lighting up another cig. "And I guess we should make the most of our remaining 'alone time' cos it looks like we're gonna be having some company from now on, huh?" No longer smiling Dean blew smoke directly into Sam's face.

Before Sam could react, they heard a ring tone indicating a text message. Dean checked his screen. "It's from Bobby".

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Author's note: Thanks for the reviews & I'll try to keep the momentum going!


	6. Chapter 6

Dark Times - by Lizzie-Lou

Chapter Six

"Pack up your stuff. We're leaving. Now." Dean moved quickly in between the beds, gathering various items of clothing and stuffing them roughly into his duffel.

Jo stayed laying on the bed but looked at Sam for clarification.

"It's Bobby." he said and she instantly got up, looking alarmed.

"What? What is it, Sam? Where is he? What's going on?" she watched his face closely as he moved towards her and felt completely sick. Sam put his hands on her arms and sat her back down.

"Look, we don't know for sure but he's…well he's sent us coordinates. It's a message, usually means he can't communicate but wants us to find him somewhere." He looked over at Dean." But they match the place we checked out the other day. Thought there may be a Ginn there. We found nothing but it could be he went back and….."

"And what? And _what, _Sam?"

Dean slammed his bag down on the table, sending unwashed coffee mugs smashing to the floor. "Look we don't have time for this shit right now! This is exactly what I'm talking about Sam - this! " He walked over to where they were sitting and stood over her. "If you wanna do this Jo then you better toughen the fuck up, man, cos this is it. The harsh reality, baby. People go missing, people get hurt, people die. That's the 'business' you've been talking about, so.." he threw her bag at her and a couple pieces of her clothing. "Get your shit together or stay here and cry, I don't care either way."

He moved back to the table, grabbed his bag and left.

Sam stared after his brother. He knew Dean could be a hard bastard when he wanted but that was _way_ over the top, even for him. Maybe it wasn't such a good time for her to be here. With Bobby missing like this, Dean was gonna be at his most stressed out and therefore his least accommodating.

Jo moved away from Sam and started putting the rest of her things in her bag. By the time he'd cleared his own bed she was already out the door and half way along the balcony. "Hey - wait!" he said as he locked up. She carried on walking.

"Jo!"

She stopped but didn't turn round. He caught up to her and saw she was clearly upset but holding it back as much as she could.

"Don't give him any more reasons to leave me here, Sam" she said through her teeth, not looking at him.

"He wouldn't, Jo - I wouldn't let him."

Then, she did look up at him. Her eyes were red and full of tears as she tried desperately to keep it together. She nodded gratefully and carried on down to the car as Sam went to settle up in the Motel office.

Dean was leaning, steely-faced, against the Impala, breathing out smoke in long straight lines. She got into the backseat without saying a word.

After a minute, he'd finished and tossed the butt, getting in behind the wheel.

The silence was completely intolerable.

Jo looked in the rear view mirror to see Dean looking straight back at her.

They held each other's gaze, fixed and intense, wilful, both thinking the same thing - who would break first. A million words were passing between them, hate, anger, concern, understanding, respect - lines being drawn in the sand. .

Then his eyes moved slightly down, very slowly, to her lips. She swallowed and her breathing became shallow. Jo saw something very different looking back at her now, something in his eyes she couldn't interpret quite so easily.

And then he broke his eyes away and it was over.

Sam got in the passenger side and cursed as he bumped his huge knees on the glove compartment. "Watch it!" Dean grumbled, starting the ignition, caring only about his car's well being.

Sam ignored him and turned to look at Jo. "Okay?"

She just nodded but her eyes flicked onto Dean again. Sam saw her and sat back into his seat.

This was gonna be a long drive.

------------------------------------

"Read me those coordinates again." Dean sounded tired but refused, as usual, to let Sam take the wheel.

"We're here, Dean. This is it. Exactly." Sam held up the map to highlight the fact.

"Okay - Jo? Stay here. No argument. Do not leave the car, do not pass go. If you so much as take _one _step outside this vehicle, the next time we go anywhere I will handcuff you to the steering wheel. Are we clear?"

Jo looked so angry she could spit ink and Sam braced himself for the worst.

"Are we clear?" Dean's eyebrows arched up expectantly.

She moved slowly back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.

"We're clear." She confirmed.

Dean smiled at her sweetly. "Great," and turned to Sam, "Then let's go."

They moved across the damp concrete, and easily scaled the six foot fence surrounding the industrial estate, Dean throwing Sam the weapon's bag before following his brother into the warehouse. Neither knew what is was they were walking into but that wasn't important. Bobby had sent them here for a reason and they needed to find out what that was.

The light quality was poor, making it hard to see inside the windowless bunkers. Both armed up to the gunnels, they moved swiftly from one enclosure to another, checking and re checking. No sign of Bobby. No sign of anything.

They regrouped outside and Dean lit up. "Good idea, Dean. 'Cos nothing calls an enemy out of hiding quicker than the smell of humans and their nicotine." Sam thought for a moment. "Actually, that's not a bad idea." Dean looked up a him, grinning.

"Come to Daddy, you Elm Street son of a bitch!"

Sam just couldn't help himself. "She could have helped out you know. Instead of sitting in the car like a girl."

"She _is_ a girl, Sam. Thought you of all people got _that_."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"This isn't the time Sam…"

"You bought it up!"

"No. You did. Now shut the fuck up about your Honey and focus on the job." Dean finished his smoke, then immediately lit another, looking round.

"So what - we just wait now?" Sam grumbled. "You know I must be getting old, cos I'm sure this job involved less hanging about like this." He sat down on the floor, rummaging in his jacket pocket. He took out some gum.

"Really Sam?" Dean indicated his disapproval by shaking his head.

"Well it's better than those Cancer sticks Dean. Seriously, you should try it."

Shaking his head, Dean surprised him by taking one from the packet and popping it in his mouth. After a moment he spat it out on the floor making an Eww sound.

"Classy, Dean. Real classy."

A sudden noise from behind made them both draw their guns. A man, late 50's maybe, was walking towards them, hands up in the air indicating no hostility.

"You boy's here about Bobby?" he asked, and they lowered their weapons very slightly.

"Who are you?" Dean asked abruptly. This was obviously no Ginn, but something was not right here.

"A friend of his. Look, stand down soldiers - I'm here with a message, that's all." He moved a hand towards his jacket pocket and both boys raised their guns again. "Just a letter to give you." he said holding still momentarily until sure it was safe to continue. "Which one of you is Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam. What the hell _was_ this?

He held out his hand, still keeping a gun held in the other, and took an envelope. It had his name on.

"Someone taught you well" his eyes narrowed. "John Winchester's boy's right?" They both nodded. "Good to meet ya. You're Daddy was a fine man."

"Yes, Sir, he was." said Dean, unaware that he had automatically stood up straighter.

"Hey - what's this about, man? Where the hell is Bobby?" Sam said impatiently. The man smiled.

"Sam, right? He's gone under ground for a while, letter explains why. He don't wanna be found so no point lookin'. He'll get in touch when he's ready. You boy's need to speak to him, you go through me. Number's on the back."

The man turned and walked away from them both, as Dean started to open the envelope.

_Boys,_

_Sorry about the cloak and dagger tactics but I needed to be somewhere else for a while and didn't want to have to go through any whiney emotional crap before hand. RJ said he'd get this to you and you can count on him for anything you'd usually get on to me for - he's a good man who knows the job._

_I'll be back when I'm back. _

_Try not to get yourself killed, idgits. _

_B_

They both walked back to the Impala in silence. Doors opening and closing in unison as they got in. Dean lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly.

Jo leaned forward. "Well - what's happening?" No response.

"Dean? Sam!" Jo's eyes moved from one to the other, her hands spread out incredulously.

Sam finally found his voice. "It's okay, Jo. Err…it looks like Bobby needed a little time off…" he looked at Dean and shrugged not really knowing what to tell her.

"He's fine Jo. Just gone underground for a while." Dean held the cig in the corner of his mouth and turned over the engine. "Guess he didn't want to join the party just yet."

The Impala moved away and Jo sat back in her seat again, completely none the wiser as to what was actually going on…..

**Author's note: A slow builder, this one - hope you all hang in there! Let me know if you think I'm writing Sam too sappy - I'm a Dean Girl at heart and although I love Sam to death, I worry I could be making him too 'Sam' if you know what I mean. I want it to come across like he really cares for Jo and that he would be the more obvious choice. But I haven't forgotten the real story arc and have plans to show his other side too later in the fic…..**

**Thanks for the great comments! **


	7. Chapter 7

Dark Times

Chapter Seven

Dean pushed the last bit of cheeseburger into his mouth, took a swig of beer and lent back comfortably on the bed. With Jo coming in on the cost of the room, they'd gone for a large suite instead. _That_ meant free Cable and episodes of Pimp my Ride were showing, back to back, all night long.

Doesn't get better than that.

His roomies had gone to the diner, saying something about not being able to eat any more take-out. Dean chuckled to himself. Now Sam had another girl to eat salad with, it would at least get him off _his_ case ….

He flipped idly through a copy of Busty Asian Beauties, wondering whether to take full advantage of this rare alone time. Nah. Since the whole 'let's all be best mates with Jo' thing, his libido had kinda lost it's momentum.

What was up with that, anyway?

The door swung open and Sam & Jo came in, mid conversation. "There are four, Sam, I'm telling you. You miss calculated. If you don't factor in the time he spent in Ithaca, you'll get it wrong. It's pretty basic stuff."

Sam frowned and went over to the mini bar where they'd stashed the booze. He poured some whiskey into a couple of tumblers, handing one to Jo. "But how come your Dad understood the markers? It's like he _knew_ they were there." He lent over and switched off the TV, sitting down opposite her.

Jo took a small sip of drink and made a yuck-face as the liquor hit the back of her throat, then took another, bigger gulp. "Ash set up a website several years ago, putting all the data he'd collected on there. Other hunter's have added to it but it was pretty much all there to begin with."

Dean stared at them both. Neither seemed to be the slightest bit aware that he was even in the room.

"Hey?" he said, spreading his hands out to indicate his presence.

They stopped talking, both turning to look at him simultaneously. Dean felt self conscious for a moment then said, irritably, "Don't just come _swanning_ in here and touch my TV, dude. And where's my pie?"

He got up moodily from the bed and rummaged through the cupboard for a glass. Sam looked at Jo smiled. "I saw that!" he added, his back to them, banging a cup down and filling it almost to the top.

He put a cig in his mouth and immediately both Sam and Jo got up, rushing towards him, waving their hands. "No, no Dean - go outside, seriously, it smells like a fucking ash tray in here - outside! Go!" Sam began to frog-march him towards the door, disapprovingly.

Dean looked like a spoiled child being told he couldn't have any more candy, feet half-sliding across the floor as he tried to resist. "What? It's cold out!" he whined.

"He's right, Dean, my clothes stink and the smoke really gets on your throat."

Dean stopped and glared at her. She knew then she should have just kept her mouth shut.

"Well excuse me, lady, but if you don't _like_ the way I live, might I suggest you fuck off and go live somewhere else! Know one's forcing you to stay here."

She turned away and Sam closed his eyes in dismay.

"Dude…"

"No, Sam. Since when's it been such a fucking problem, me smoking in our motel room, huh?"

"Oh - I don't know, since like _forever_. Come on Dean, I spend my entire life nagging you about this shit. Don't make out like this is a new thing 'cos it's not." Sam's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's wrong with you, man? Your acting like such a dick!"

Dean's mouth dropped comically, like one of the Three Stooges, but even as he tried to maintain his anger, it was already subsiding. He closed it back up again.

He _was_ always being told to go outside.

Sam _was_ always nagging him that the room stank and that his clothes reeked of the demon weed.

And he _was_ being a dick.

"Fine." he said reaching the door and pulling his jacket from off it's hook .

"Fine." Sam said sitting back down on the bed. "And I'll switch Pump my Nads on when you come back in, okay?" Sam said in his most patronising tone. The door slammed shut and he let out an amused grunt.

He had to remind himself sometimes who was the _older _brother.

Sam looked over at Jo. "You okay?" he said, suddenly concerned. She looked quite upset.

"No Sam. I'm _so_ far from being okay. About as far from okay as it's possible for me to be, actually…" He got up and moved to where she stood on the other side of the room.

She moved in the opposite direction.

"No!" Jo shouted, abruptly. She paused for a moment to gather herself, breathing hard.

"You know, the way Dean just spoke to me? A month ago, I'd have ripped him a new one for talking to me like that."

Sam could see she needed to get something off her chest, so sat back down giving her the floor.

"Look at me, Sam. How many times a day do you ask me if I'm okay? How many times since I've been here have I cried like a pussy and taken shit from Dean, just like that, huh?" She started to pace the floor again, now in full swing. "What the fuck's happened to me?"

She ran her fingers through her hair in dismay, then moved closer to face him, standing almost in between Sam's long legs, stretched out in front.

"I'm a hunter, Sam." She pounded her fist over her heart. "I bleed and I bruise but I get the fucking job done, just like all the other hunters out there. Just like my father."

Her voice was shaking but she managed to carry on. "Since mom died, since I came here - something's changed, Sam. And I don't recognise the person I've become….." she looked down, broken and confused. "I'm weak and pathetic. No wonder Dean thinks he can bully me - hell, I'd bully me!" She wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve but the tears kept coming. "_He_ thinks I'm pathetic."

Sam felt his chest tighten like inside a vice. He could see she was struggling but felt completely paralysed and conflicted.

What he wanted to do more than anything in the world was to pull her into him and hold her. Hold on to her and smell the lavender in her hair and feel her small frame pushed tightly against his.

An overwhelming desire to protect her, shield her from all this. It came over him like a tide, something he hadn't even been close to feeling for a long time, not since Jess…

But he knew if he did that, it would just confirm everything she'd just said about herself. That she was just some helpless female in need of rescuing.

And he knew she would resent him for it.

Sam swallowed and consciously moved his feelings to one side, locking them away. He stood up and took her tiny hands into his. "Listen to me. You're still exactly the same person you've always been, Jo. Your tough and your smart - you've got amazing pedigree, man. Your father would be totally blown away by who you are, what you can do."

He got a tissue from his pocket and wiped her face. "Ellen was killed, taken away from you for no good reason and that sucks. You can't expect to be okay with that - shit, I wouldn't be. But you're here with us 'cos you need to be around other hunters, because that's what you know, what you need right now. It doesn't mean you can't handle yourself and know one's thinks any less of you bacause of it, okay? Not even Dean."

Sam was somehow able to find the words he knew she needed to hear and could see by her face that he'd gotten through.

"Thank you, Sam. You're a good friend, really." She moved in to hug him and he tensed up, but not enough for her to notice. Yeah, Sam, a _great_ friend.

------------------------------------

Dean finished his cigarette and walked back along the fire escape to the motel room. As he opened the door, he saw Jo moving into Sam's arms and it dawned on him that the reason they'd wanted him to leave the room before had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with second hand smoke.

He closed the door again quietly and went to sit in the Impala.

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	8. Chapter 8

Dark Times

Chapter Eight

The AC/DC cassette jammed again and Dean was beginning to think he should just drive off.

He lit up and watched the smoke disappear through a tiny gap in the window. All he could hear was Sam's whining voice telling him that he should have kept the Ipod jack in the Impala and that he needed to update his music collection and get rid of all the mullet rock.

Dean made a 'whatever' face to himself.

What did he know, anyway? The guy listens to Coldplay, for Christ sake.

Dean looked up at the motel and wondered why, after over an hour, know one had come get him. He knew that was childish but following what he just saw, he'd expected they'd feel at least a _tiny_ twinge of guilt, him out here in the icy weather while they…

His lips pursed together and he suddenly felt…angry?

So, what - Sam and Jo are gonna ride off into the sunset to go fight evil, holding hands like Superman and fucking WonderWoman, while stupid Uncle Dean stays at home and baby-sits their lanky offspring?

Screw that.

And why'd it have to be Jo, huh? What, there aren't any _other _arrogant, opinionated blondes in town he could've hooked up with? Maybe with _slightly _less baggage and general attitude problems?

God - how annoying was she, anyway? And how _dare_ she say he had to smoke outside, so - he's gotta ask her permission now?

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, taking one last drag before squashing the butt into the ash tray, like it was somebody's head.

Then, leaning back he sighed heavily, feeling the last of the smoke escaping from the depths of his lungs. Even _he _knew there was more to this than he was willing to admit to himself but now was not the time.

Whilst sitting abandoned in the 'Gooseberry-Mobile', he'd also started to think about Bobby. Something just didn't add up, him taking off like that. He understood that maybe he'd want to take a few days out, deal with some shit, but this had been nearly a week now and not a word? Just not right.

Dean took out his phone and began a message. Then stopped. He remembered the note Bobby left them. It had been clear he didn't want any contact.

Maybe they should try that RJ guy and hit him for some more info?

Then the passenger door opened and Sam leaned in.

"Dude…you've made your point. Quit sulking like a girl and come back inside, it's freezing."

Dean considered for a moment. He could either punch his brother across the bridge of his annoyingly pert little nose (which would bleed _a lot _and leave a huge bruise for him to enjoy seeing for at least a week) or he could stab him in the eye with his lighter.

Which would be funniest?

"Dean. If you hit me, I _will _hit you back and make sure I split your lip open so that every time you wanna have a smoke, it will open up again and again." He smiled sweetly.

Dean rolled his eyes and got out the car. Busted.

"I'd have pulled a ninja move on you anyways, you wouldn't have been able to get me back..." he muttered under his breath as they walked back upstairs.

Sam stopped and turned to look at him. "Seriously, man, what is _with_ you? It's like we're bickering teenagers again. Is something going on?"

Dean looked down at his feet. "It's just…since Jo's been here…" he thought about what he was gonna say and then decided not to say it. "I just feel like you've dumped me for a younger, prettier model! Don't you _like_ me anymore, Sammy?" He looked up at his brother with comedy eyelashes batting woefully. "Just tell me straight if it's over, I can take it…"

Sam shook his head in dismay and carried on down the hallway. "Sam! You must understand how it feels to be so easily replaced!" Dean laughed as they went in and Jo looked up from the laptop. He gave her an exaggerated smile and went towards the bathroom, picking up his Busty Asian Beauties magazine and waving it at her. "No listening, now…"

Jo gave a grossed-out gasp and turned away. Dean could be heard still laughing as he closed the door with a bang.

She looked at Sam who just blinked slowly, holding up his hands. "I know I know…what can I do?"

She smiled back and he had to look away, feeling a rush of blood to his cheeks. Sam was not sure why but he really needed to be somewhere else all of a sudden.

"Jo, I'm…err…gonna go into town, I need to check on something…." He got up to leave but was startled to see her immediately getting up as well.

"Great - I'll come too." She said reaching for her bag and jacket.

Sam responded quickly. "You know what? I think you should stay here and… see if you can sort things out with Dean. We're getting on the road tomorrow and it'll suck if there's an atmosphere, believe me, you don't wanna go on the road with Dean when he's pissed at you - no fun at all, trust me." He got his coat and moved to open the door, aware he was rambling. Jo stood still, like she wasn't sure what to do.

"Okay…I guess. But we'll just end up shouting at each other, guaranteed." She sat back down at the table.

Sam smiled, "Yeah, probably. Tell him I'll pick up supplies for the trip." She nodded and he closed the door quietly behind him.

Dean just saw him leave as he came out of the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped round his head like Carmen Miranda and a pair of boxers on.

"Where's he off to?" He said, flopping down on the bed. Jo, having glimpsed him come out, stayed eyes down to the computer.

"Town."

"Oh. You didn't wanna go?"

"Sam wanted me to stay. And talk to you, actually."

"Oh. What about?" He smiled smugly. Jo looked up and fixed his gaze. "You gonna put some clothes on, or do you wanna do this in your skivvies?" She sounded pissed but Dean could see her cheeks were bright red. He couldn't resist.

"Ms Harvell - are you _embarrassed_ to see me nearly naked? Cos for the record, I'm completely comfortable just as I am, but...if you have a problem with nakedness I can…" he moved to get up, pulling off the head towel and throwing it beside the bed.

"Your _not _naked, Dean…"

"…put some pants on, if I'm making you feel awkward…."

"…I'm NOT awkward…"

"….what with you and Sam being together now and all…" Jo stopped spluttering and suddenly seemed to have regained her focus.

"Wait...with me and Sam what?" she asked standing up and walking over to him.

Dean ran fingers through his close-cropped hair and now sat looking up at her. He did actually feel rather uncomfortable being this exposed, despite what he'd said before and wished he hadn't been so cocky and just put his jeans on, at least.

"You and Sam. An _item_. Which is fine, by the way, if either of you were interested in what I thought about it, which your obviously not…"

He wondered why Jo looked confused. She didn't move, just continued to stare at him.

"You _know_ - with the hugging and stuff…" his voice trailed off, somewhat exasperated. Why was she staring at him like that?

Jo broke away first and walked back over to the table. "Typical." she said under her breath, head shaking.

"Huh?" Dean got up and started putting on some clothes, relieved to be given a little space. He did up his belt and pulled a clean black T over his head.

"Forget it." She said sitting down and started to do something on the computer.

"Wait a minute, sweetheart, you started all this cryptic shit, don't go all coy on me now." He moved towards her, his hackles well and truly up. Again.

"Just _forget it, _Dean!" She wouldn't look at him which made him even more mad. He took an angry breath and really had to contain his temper. She was being insufferable! Why not just admit her and Sam had a thing and then they could move on. But that would just be _way_ too easy.

"You know what? It's not worth it. Screw this." He reached for his jacket "And screw you, lady."

He left, slamming the door.

As soon as he started down the hallway he heard the door opening again behind him and knew she was following.

"Dean. Dean!"

He turned abruptly, finding her right behind him and grabbed her upper arms, pushing her hard into the wall. They were both breathing heavily, angry and ready for a fight. She struggled and he pushed even harder against her, thigh moving in between hers for leverage, their faces now inches apart. He could feel her heart beating through the thin jumper she wore and watched as her eyes moved down to his lips and then back to meet his gaze.

She thinks I'm going to kiss her.

"You're something else, you know that?" he said, scowling down at her. "You think I care so little for Sammy that I'd hit on _you_?" But without even knowing it, he was looking at her lips too, cherry-red and parted ever so slightly.

He knew from her expression she was afraid as she tried to work out his next move, always thinking like a hunter.

Dean lifted his hands from her arms, placing them either side above her head, his body still holding her as he slowly moved into her neck. He could feel her tense up even more and was aware of how menacing he was being right now. Very aware.

He leaned into her ear, _almost_ feeling her soft skin against his mouth, breathing in her scent, and whispered coldly, "Never gonna happen, Jo…" then pushed away from the wall and carried on down the hall.

She stayed in exactly the same place till he could no longer see her and once Dean was sure he was out of sight he stopped, leaning over, his hands sliding down his thighs, gasping.

What the hell just happened?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

What in Gods name was he gonna to do now....


	9. Chapter 9

Dark Times

Chapter Nine

Dean checked the groceries again, as he walked towards the motel room. He'd come back in the early hours, gone out again at dawn, managing to avoid contact with both Sam and Jo all morning.

But he now had a plan.

They were heading out today, which meant no more sitting around navel-gazing, as he'd decided _this_ had been the problem over the last few days.

Dean knew when he wasn't out on a hunt, he got agitated and irritable. And without Bobby to mix things up a little, the dynamics were decidedly off around here.

Nothing more, nothing less.

So, as he moved the cigarette packets, Peanut M&M's and soda around the bag, he nodded to himself, feeling a new sense of purpose and conviction. A hunt, supplies, getting behind the wheel again to a new town - life was good.

He walked through the door, smiling broadly, but his face dropped almost immediately. Jo was sitting on the bed, clearly distressed, with Sam hovering over her, box of tissues in hand, looking - well, quite frankly, like a girl.

His heart sank. Now _what?_

"Hey, Dean" Sam said, but his eyes were clearly saying _where the fuck have you been…! _

Dean dropped the bag down on the table and looked at Jo, then back at Sam.

"What's going on?" He tried to sound concerned but to be honest was expecting yet _another_ round of angsty shit to deal with, so was already trying to work out an escape route.

This was just getting too much.

"Jo's had a call from the Coroner - their releasing Ellen's body. Apparently they've already wrapped up the murder investigation..."

He immediately felt like a douche.

Dean looked at Jo. "Have you…err....decided what you're gonna do with the body?" He was thinking only about the practicalities of her returning to collect it and making all the arrangements. He was pretty sure money was tight for her right now and last time he checked, funeral costs were way out of their league.

"I wanna have her buried," she said, her voice starting to choke. She swallowed hard, fighting it back. "But I'm not sure the Harvell purse can stretch to that." She laughed sadly. "Mom didn't leave anything. After the Roadhouse fire she was using the insurance money just to get by. I helped where I could but…hustling doesn't pay as well as it used to, you know?"

Sam put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. She looked up at him, tears now streaming down her cheeks. He wiped them away with a tissue and pulled her into him a little as she sobbed.

Dean watched, his face hard to read.

Then he turned, swiped up the car keys and left, without saying a word.

* * *

Bobby felt sick. He could feel his feet scraping across something cold and wet. His head was pounding, eyes sticky, as he tried to move. Excruciating pain shot up both his arms as he felt the weight of his body upon them. Were they tied up? He couldn't quite see but got a sense that they were above his head. He felt a wave of nausea and then vomited down himself, vaguely aware that there was someone or something now standing in front of him. A florescent blue light flickered…_just relax Bobby…it's all gonna be okay…_

* * *

Sam checked the wall clock as he closed the door.

1.30pm.

The motel manager had just left, reading him the riot act about late check out and he'd had to explain, with an AMEX Gold Card, that they'd need the suite for a few more nights. The guy had made out that the room was already booked and Sam had needed to sweeten the deal with $50 to get rid of him.

He didn't want to have to wake Jo and move them to another room.

Sam watched her for a moment, laying foetal position on her bed and wondered at how peaceful she now looked. He understood completely how she felt - they'd been there too not so long ago, feeling the burden of loss so great you don't know where to turn, what to do. He wished he could take it from her. Wished he could be more of a comfort to her.

Wished he could be _more_ to her…

Dean had been gone for hours now, which was becoming a bit of a recurring theme, lately. Sam knew it was hard for him - he didn't do the touchy-feely thing as a rule. But there was something else going on here. Something Dean was not willing to share.

He heard Jo stirring and went over to her. "You wanna drink?" he said softly, sitting at the edge of her bed. She rubbed her eyes then looked down at her knuckles. Black mascara smeared across them and she looked up at him.

"I look like a Panda" she said, managing to pout and sniff simultaneously. Sam smiled warmly and ran a finger down her cheek.

"Nah…you still look gorgeous." he said and she moved her hand around his.

"You're a good man, Sam Winchester." His face fell and he pulled away, standing up. "Hey - what did I say? Sam? What's wrong?" She swung her legs down off the bed and followed him.

"Nothing, Jo. Just…lots of stuff has happened recently...stuff you don't know about. I've…done things…terrible, unforgivable things…." his voice trailed off and he sat down at the table, fingers laced round his neck. Jo came up beside him, standing close and moved his chin up to look at her.

"Whatever you think you've done,Sam? I've seen nothing but goodness from you and I can't believe you'd purposely hurt anyone." He gazed up at her and moved his cheek into her hand.

If only she knew…

The door clicked open and Dean walked in. Jo's hand fell away and she went to get some juice from the counter.

Dean threw a brown paper bag down on the bed and took off his jacket.

"Nice disappearing act." Sam said angrily. "Turning into a bit of a habit, don't you think?"

Dean stood and looked at them both, silent, not moving.

"Sam - let it go, it's fine…"

"No, actually - it's _not_ fine." Sam stood up. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to show a little compassion, dude. Her mom just died. Like _Dad_ died. Have you forgotten what we went through, man? "

Jo had never seen him this angry. She looked at Dean, wondering whether the infamous Winchester temper was going to kick off again, but his face remained blank.

She put her hand up against his chest "Please Sam, just leave it. I'm fine, _really_."

Sam continued to scowl as Dean lent over the bed and retrieved the paper bag. He pulled out a huge bundle of cash and placed it carefully on the table.

Sam & Jo both stared down at the large pile of hundreds.

"For the burial." Dean said flatly, and walked back out again.

**Authors note: Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments. Hope to keep the chapters coming regularly to keep y'all interested! **


	10. Chapter 10

Dark Times

Chapter Ten

The road noise was beginning to get on his nerves but Dean though it would be maybe a bit obvious to switch on the cassette. He looked in the rear view mirror and watched Jo for a moment. She stared out the window, no expression on her face, and for all the shit that had gone down between them since she arrived, he felt for her right now. Know one should have to do what she did today.

Know one.

Sam was asleep and making weird snuffling noises. To be fare he'd taken his turn on the long drive already so it wasn't unreasonable to get some shut eye.

But Dean wished he had someone to talk to, breaking up the monotony a little...

He thought maybe the radio would be okay. Should he ask first? He looked at her again. Still nothing. God, this stuff was so hard to figure out... What was he meant to say to her? 'Sorry you had to bury your mom today, nice coffin though?'

Anyway, this was Sam's department, not his. He lit a cig and opened up the window a crack. It was bitterly cold out but the fresh air felt good on his face, mixed in with all those yummy toxic nicotine fumes.

Dean leaned over to open the glove compartment, a grin on his face, purposely knocking into his brother in order to wake him.

Sam's eyes opened immediately and he moved back into a sitting position, stretching his long legs out as best he could.

"Hey." Dean said, his face looking a little guilty.

"What time's it?" Sam rubbed his eyes.

"4.30. You wanna stop?" Dean needed more cigs so this was what he'd planned to do anyway.

"Yeah…need a leak." He yawned and then turned round to look at Jo. She didn't move, still staring out the window. "Okay if we stop, Jo?" he said. She didn't answer.

Sam looked back at Dean, who shrugged. "Hey - don't look at me, I didn't do anything."

Jo turned to face them both. "Yeah, let's stop." she said quietly.

Sam nodded and put the radio on. There was a Diner up ahead and Dean could get supplies from the gas station on the other side of the road.

Jo had said barely a word since the Service this morning and Sam was concerned she may have overheard Dean, Mr Sensitive, talking about the burial.

He'd been curious why Jo, knowing what she did, hadn't opted for the more definitive 'salt &burn' approach when laying Ellen to rest. Any hunter they'd ever known wouldn't even consider leaving the corpse of a loved one vulnerable to who knows what later on.

At this point Jo, although apparently out of earshot, had looked round at Dean, and her eyes had seemed full of hate.

She'd not said another word till just now.

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot and all three of them got out. Jo walked straight inside the restaurant.

Sam grabbed his brother's arm, manoeuvring them both so they were turned away from the front windows. "Dude, d'you think she heard what you said about burying Ellen's body?"

Dean paused for a minute. "Maybe." he said then pulled away, now facing him, looking pissed. "But I don't really give a shit if she did, Sam. She's a grown up, she can take it. Besides, I'm not spending however long she _decides_ to be here, walking on fucking egg shells".

Sam looked mortified by his brother's outburst and looked over to where Jo sat in a booth, by the door. "Jesus Dean, can you at least keep it down…" he said through his teeth.

"No Sammy. This ends. Today. No more mollycoddling. And that goes for you too, dude. She's gotta start pulling her weight or she's out, you hear?"

Sam shook his head. "Why're you being like this?"

"I'm not _being_ like anything, dude. Ellen's gone. Buried. It's time to get on with what we do, Sam, hunting. And what about Bobby, huh? What's the deal with him? Have you even given him a thought over the past few days?"

Sam moved in closer, towering over Dean, formidably. "Don't you dare say that, man. Don't turn your inability to _feel_ into my issue, okay? Bobby has nothing to do with this - he made his choice and he's fine with it, so why are you even bringing him up?"

"My inability to _feel_……you son of a…." Dean swung at his brother, catching his chin and knocking him down. "Fuck you, Sam. Both of you." He walked across the parking lot and got back into the Impala.

The engine had barely turned over but the wheels spun across the gravel and as he left, Jo came out and bent over Sam who still lay on the floor.

"What the hell?" She helped him up, both of them watching the Impala as it disappeared down the road.

* * *

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock …_

_The Grandfather Clock sounded comforting as it echoed through the lobby of his house… _

"_Bobby, honey - you want another beer?" She came towards him, her face beautiful, just as he remembered, kind and full of goodness. He pulled her to him, the feeling of warmth and love and happiness…overwhelming….all around him…_

_He was sure he'd forgotten to do something, though, a nagging feeling, like he was meant to be somewhere or do something…_

_Ah - who care's...probably nothin..._

* * *

Sam and Jo sat in the booth, sharing a large fries between them, wondering what to do now. Jo took a sip of her soda and lent forward to examine Sam's bruise. She sighed. "So, he was telling you I should leave?" she said matter of factly.

"No! No, Jo…he was just saying that now things are…well, just that now…" she could see him struggling to find a nice way of saying that now she had buried her mom, she needed to get on with it.

"It's okay Sam. He's right. That part of my life is over. Time to move on." She sat back in her seat. "But I figure I'm not going to do that if I stay here, Sam. Dean knows it, and I think you know it too, if your honest. This…" she spread her hands out around her, "This isn't me. Time to get back to the job and that means out there on my _own_."

Sam looked horrified. "No way. " He held her gaze.

"Sam…think about it. I don't belong here. I mean, look at what just happened. I'm not getting in between you two - I _won't_ do that. I need some space now, need to sort some stuff out for myself." She smiled. "Besides, I'm kinda sick of Dean riding my ass this hard and I'm pretty close to bitch-slapping the son of a bitch, truth be told." Sam nodded. Dean had one coming from him too.

"I wanna to do this, Sam. And it's what my mom would have expected me to do and…that's all that matters now…"

_That_ statement however, he was not on board with. "Wow, hold on…Jo, sorry but that last part is bullshit."

Sam pushed away the last of the fries and got his wallet out, but never dropped out of her eye line. "You think you're the first person to re evaluate your life after something like this happens, huh? The first to start feeling like the best way forward is to do _exactly_ what you think you're parents would want you to do?" he laughed but his eyes were far from amused. "When we lost dad? I did exactly the same thing. " He stood up to go, leaving a tip on the table. "And like I said - it's just bullshit."

"So what are you saying, Sam? Because you and your brother _wrote the book _on grieving, I can't possibly know the right thing to do? That's a fucking dangerous road to go down…" Her eyes were wide open with shock.

He could see she was angry and that he needed to pull this back a little, explain what he meant.

"No, I'm just saying that maybe what you're feeling _now_ is still grief-related and that you can't just switch that off because you buried Ellen!" He saw this cut deep and sighed, trying to put it more gently. "Just...trust me when I say you should wait a couple more days before making any decisions about your future, okay?"

He moved his hand out to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

"You think you know me, but you don't." she said coldly. "I've told you, Sam this is _not_ me. I need to get back out there, get back to what I know, because this…this has to stop..." Her eyes were full of tears again but he could see how angry and frustrated she was with herself.

He got it. She was a soldier, made of stronger stuff than most, but even hero's had to feel something sometimes...

"Look. Just get through today, okay? That's all I'm saying... Believe me, it's far worse if you don't." Sam rubbed his sore chin. "Then tomorrow, feel free to rip Dean a new one, 'cos believe me, he's _seriously_ got it coming."

He checked his pocket for his phone, as it signalled a text message.

_Valley Motel - Rm14_

Sam looked at Jo, sucking in his cheeks as he wrote back

_fine. come get us_

_No_

_COME GET US DEAN! _

Dean sent no further message and after leaving it a few moments, Sam turned to Jo. "Looks like we're staying put tonight - Dean's sorted out a motel." She swung round, arms outstretched, indicating that she wasn't able to see any motels. Or _anything_.

"I know. I told him to come get us but....I guess we're walking. " He pulled his jacket round himself. "You know, I don't know why I put up with so much of his shit." he grumbled as they got onto the highway, heading in the direction Dean had left.

----------------

Dean placed the phone gently on the table.

No sudden movements.

The man standing next to him, a gun to his temple said, "If I get any vibe that he knows we're here, I'll shoot him and his bitch in the head. Understand?

Dean understood.

Authors note: Keep reading and reviewing guys - it's keeping me motivated


	11. Chapter 11

Dark Times

Chapter Eleven

The Valley motel turned out to be around two miles up the road and by the time Sam and Jo arrived, they were _really_ pissed. Walking along the narrow balcony, the language was pretty ripe as they came up with the various ways they could gank this particularly moody Winchester.

Sam had been the most creative but now he was here, he'd decided to go with stabbing him in the neck with a pen, whilst showing him pictures of Jo painting the Impala pink, singing a Britney Spears duet.

Dean - behaving like a spoiled asshole? Not an unusual event, especially recently. But Sam realised this was escalating rapidly and the two of them needed to sort it out. Things had begun to settled down over the past few weeks, not like it was before maybe but a little easier, a little closer.

But their fight earlier reminded him of how dark it could get between them. And there was too much at stake right now.

Sam had too much to lose.

Soaked through, it had turned so cold Sam actually had ice forming in his wet hair. "You know, the son of a bitch will probably be asleep, right?" he said and Jo nodded.

"We'd better wake him up gently, then…" She had a glint in her eye as she spied the ice box & started to fill up a container.

It hadn't been all bad, the walk back. They'd spoken some more about the merits of her staying and she seemed to have come round to the idea after him pressing the point. She'd started off defensive and arsy, but had losened up, just a little, especially when he pointed out that the tension with him and his brother was not all about her. Sam told her she was good for them, kept them grounded and gave them a much needed diversion. With Bobby laying low somewhere, Sam felt this kept them sharp and focused.

He just needed to square some things with Dean first.

Suddenly, Jo stopped dead. Sam looked up but they were nowhere near room 14.

"What's going on…?" He felt her grab hold of his collars and pull him against the wall, pushing her body hard up against his, hand spreading across his mouth.

"What the…?" he tried to say through her fingers.

She told him with her eyes not to say a word. He nodded and she removed her hand, but her body remained against his.

Although alarmed, he couldn't help revelling in her sudden closeness. She always felt so tiny against his enormous frame but he could feel how strong she was, powerful. She'd got him exactly where she wanted him despite their physical disparity.

Exactly where he wanted to be…

Jo pointed to something on the floor. Sam thought they looked like…shells? Pistachio husks, maybe? He looked back at Jo, confused. She moved to whisper in his ear and he tried hard not to tense up.

Be professional, Sam come on!

* * *

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

_The sounds have changed, feeling further away…_

_And where is that cold air coming from - sharp, harsh against skin._

_Sharp? A good word - sharp. Sharp pain in the head, arms, wrists._

_Nothing is right here. _

_All dark and changed._

_Bobby! Bobby! You know this is all wrong, Bobby? Pull yourself together, man! Get out! Get out!_

_But...I can't do it….no good…..can't quite focus…_

_

* * *

_

Dean felt like a moron.

He'd walked straight into this guy - a guy, not a demon - and allowed himself to be held hostage like this.

He had to be, what, late 40's? Not even six foot tall, with a spare tire round his middle and sixty-a-day chest rattle.

What the fuck?

He'd spent the last two hours looking at every possible way to get away from the gun pointing at his head but this dude was smart. He was never too far away or too near. He stood in the exact spot where it was completely impossible to get an angle on the gun and he never used the bathroom.

Or allow Dean to use it.

He just stood there. And he'd uttered the sum total of two complete sentences since he arrived. All other communication had been simple commands - sit, move, shut up.

This guy was ex army. Had to be.

Dean just couldn't get an opening. Nothing. All he could do was sit and wait, hoping that Jo didn't come walking in first 'cos he was planning to take a shot at this clown the second the door opened and she wouldn't be able to react as quick as his brother - training or no training.

The guy must have sensed his increased anxiety. "Go stand by the door." he said blankly.

Dean looked up meeting his gaze, hateful contempt on his face. "You know what? Screw you, buddy. I'm not playing your little game anymore. Go ahead, shoot me." Dean smiled. "Cos you see, I get complimentary tickets to a place _far_ better than this crap hole, so I got nothing to loose. " He smugly settled back in his seat.

That should get your juices flowing, you son of a bitch.

The guy leaned into him, his breath smelling of pear drops. "I can do that," he said softly, pushing the gun further into Dean's skin. "then when your friends come in, I'll rape both of them using your brains as lubricant."

Dean swallowed. This guy was hard core. Sam & Jo would be here any minute, totally clueless of what was about to go down. But this jerk had watched his every move and there was no way he could get a warning to Sam - none of their code words or signs had been possible.

He knew he would have to be fast 'cos what good would he be to them dead?

"Move. Please."

Dean got up slowly from the chair and walked to the door, trying to work out if there was any advantage to him being there when they came in.

What the hell does this dude want, anyway? Who is he working for? Demons? Angels? Hard to tell these days who the bad guys are. Dean reached the door and turned slowly round.

As he did so, the glass window in the kitchenette smashed violently as what looked like a shotgun landed on the sink and for a micro second the guy turned and looked round. Time enough for Dean to hit the deck.

Somehow - God only knows how - Sam must have known something was wrong. _That_ was impressive.

The door flew open and Jo came through, low, rolling across the floor, and Sam came in behind, shotgun firing rock salt.

"He's human, Sam!" Dean shouted keeping low, trying to move forward to get hold of the weapon they'd thrown in for him. Nice strategy.

The guy had disappeared out of eyesight, but as Sam quickly changed ammo, Dean saw him appear again from behind the bureau, his gun raised, pointing straight at his brother.

Dean reached the shotgun, spun and aimed.

But as he was about to shoot, he watched the guys head explode like a melon from behind as Jo emptied an entire round into his forehead from across the room.

The guy fell forward, smashing the coffee table on his way down.

All three of them stood panting loudly, trying to get back their breath, looking down at the fallen man as his blood pooled thickly on the beige carpet.

"Told you I was faster…"

Dean looked over at Jo and nodded proudly. "Damn straight, sweetheart." She smiled and Sam thought fleetingly how she only ever glowed like that when she looked at his older brother.

Then Dean's face fell suddenly. "Jesus, I _really _need to pee."

* * *

**Authors note: Having just watched 'Abandon All Hope' , I am completely & utterly distraught and numb. How could they bring them back and then do this?**

**Damn you Kripke!**

**Sorry about the wait for this - will try not to be too long with the next bit - poor Bobby needs some attention!**


	12. Chapter 12

Dark Times

Chapter Twelve

The cops had been all over the Valley Motel within minutes, so they'd agreed to drive across the county line; putting as much distance between them and the carnage they'd left behind as possible. They arrived at a seedy hourly rental several hours later and moved quickly inside, with Dean hurriedly grabbing their holdalls from the trunk. He noticed the 'doom' part of the Muldoom's Motel's neon flickering and couldn't help smiling. Very appropriate for them. As he did so, his hand immediately went to his mouth, sore and split and his good humour evapourated as he considered what had happened over the past few hours. The drive here had been an interesting one to say the least...

_Four hours earlier - _

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Dean threw his stuff on the back seat as Sam and Jo leapt in, breathing hard.

The Impala spun out of the turning just as three local cop cars came tearing round the block, sirens blaring.

"There ya go boys - try making sense of that random fucking nightmare." Dean scoffed, pushing down on the accelerator and lighting up a smoke simultaneously.

Jo looked back, worried, but saw the patrol cars carry on to the Motel. They'd be well clear before any questions were asked about strangers hanging about town.

She sat back and sighed, wiping redundantly at the blood spots now dried on her pants.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, processing what'd just happened.

"So…_what_ just happened?" Sam looked at Dean expectantly. It wasn't often a human got one over on _him_. Now they were clear, he couldn't help but smirk a little. Dean gave him so much shit over those sick assholes who put him in a cage back in 2006, it was kinda nice to have the tables turned.

Even _Dean _can get caught off guard, it seems.

"I have absolutely no idea, man. The son of a bitch jumped me when I got into town, puts a gun against my head and frog marches me to the motel. Didn't say anything except we needed to wait for you two." Dean shrugged, then a thought occurred to him. "Wait - how'd he _know_ about you two? And more importantly, how'd _you_ know there was someone in the room with me? I didn't tip you off…"

Sam looked round at Jo, beaming. "This _incredible_ hunter back here, saw - what were they, peanut shells? and somehow managed to deduce from that you were in trouble, practically pinned me to the wall for a little…debriefing, then orchestrated the whole fucking assault!" He looked at her proudly. "Damn woman - that was _awesome!_"

Jo smiled uncomfortably at Dean as he looked back at her in the rear view. He lit up another cigarette without dropping eye contact.

"Okay… but how d'you go from a CSI special to a full on, mother-fucking rescue op?" Dean shifted in his seat blowing smoke through a gap in the window. Something wasn't right about all this, especially as he saw her face begin to flush. "Jo…?"

She turned her eyes onto Sam but still said nothing. Sam smiled back at her awkwardly, not sure what to say about the questions Dean had raised.

They were _good_ questions.

How _had_ she known those shells on the walkway meant someone was in the room with Dean? They were nowhere near that room. Could have been dropped by anyone staying anywhere on that floor. Unless of course she knew this _someone …_

Now both brothers were staring back at her.

Jo took a breath. "His name's Marley. Or was. Vincent Marley. He apparently enjoys monkey nuts when he's out on a job."

Dean and Sam looked at each other, Dean's eyes squinting as though it helped him hear her better.

"Go on.." he said softly, breathing out a stream of white smoke.

She swallowed. "He's a…."

A long pause followed. Sam thought how weird it was that he could hear her every breath. Dean barely moved a muscle, arms ridged against the wheel.

"Yeah..? A what, Jo? He's a what?" Dean said impatiently.

"A psychotic…Debt Collector."

Stunned silence.

Sam suddenly let out a burst of laughter. "Sorry." he said, then laughed again.

Jo's eyes were darting from one Winchester to the other, trying to get a handle on what was going down here. Sam was obviously very amused but Dean looked totally incensed.

He pulled the Impala into a lay-by, sliding it behind some trees and switched of the engine, turning to face her.

"A Debt Collector?" he said, eyes wide.

Jo nodded.

"A _Psychotic_ Debt Collector." Dean sounded the words out slowly and precisely, holding his thumb and forefinger together to punctuate.

She nodded again, slower.

Sam was now forcibly squashing his lips together so as not to make a sound, but this was just_ too_ good.

His kick-ass older brother had been held hostage for two hours - not by a demon, arc angel or evil psychopathic killer with super powers.

No, just a low rent, small-fry scumbag.

And who had ganked this dude, after a rather fantastically executed rescue?

Jo.

"Look, Dean - this son of a bitch has been after us for over a year. He's crazy - sick in the head or something - he just wouldn't let it go - threatening to kill us - we somehow managed to keep under his radar 'til now but I guess with the press reporting the murder and everything he…he found me." Her voice trailed off as she saw Dean's face snarling back at her.

"And it didn't cross your mind to let us in on the fact you had a fucking psycho on your tail?" He yelled at her, getting out the car and slamming the door.

Jo got out too, following him. "We hadn't seen him for months Dean… I… just forgot about him, okay? There've been one or two other things going on for me recently, or hadn't you noticed?" He stopped and turned, moving back towards her.

"Noticed? Noticed! Are you kidding me? Every goddamn thing lately has been about you and your fucking mother!" Jo swung back towards the car. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Go running back to Sammy, tell him what a bastard I am and how much you fucking hate me!"

She stood still then but didn't turn round. "You're a shit, Dean Winchester; a selfish, egotistical, arrogant, vain cock sucker." She looked down at her feet ."Don't you _dare_ say that to me." She said through her teeth.

Dean caught up to her and stood blocking her way. "Say what, Jo... huh? Say that since you've been here all I've had to listen to is your _whiney_, _angsty _bullshit day and night? That every time I say anything to you, you pout and cry and run into Sam's fucking arms?"

Sam looked out the car window. He could see them howling at each other but could only hear bits and pieces - blah-blah 'son of a bitch', blah-blah 'whiney'. This was about _so _much more than either of them were prepared to admit. He picked up his Blackberry and checked through his messages. _Whatever_…

Dean knew exactly what he was saying despite his rage, but somehow he just couldn't stop. He looked down at her spitefully. "...and let's not forget the way you conveniently forget you're with Sam when you think you can manipulate me into wanting you too." He said, his voice low and menacing.

Jo drew back her shoulder and punched Dean square in the face, sending him at least three yards backwards on his ass. After a moment she walked slowly up to where he'd landed, rubbing the knuckles on her right hand.

"If you ever, _ever_ speak to me like that again, I will kill you." She said in a measured voice. Then walked back to the Impala, getting in without saying another word.

Sam did see _that_. Loud and clear.

Dean rubbed his jaw, spat out blood from a cut lip, stood up and started wiping leaves and dirt from the back of his jeans.

He fired up a cigarette, took a swig from his hip flask and slowly walked back to the car. He sat in the Impala and closed the door quietly.

Sam looked at Dean.

Then he looked back at Jo.

Neither looked at him.

Okay…


	13. Chapter 13

Dark Times

Chapter Thirteen

Dean sat at the table, nursing a whisky. His face throbbed but his conscience ached more. What he'd said earlier - worthy of the much coveted 'Scumbag of the Year' award for being _the_ most insensitive bastard ever.

And he knew it.

He'd not said a word since getting back in the Impala. Sam and Jo decided to go get food at the diner once they got here and went straight back out again.

Left him with a couple of scathing looks and a bottle of JD.

Obviously _he_ wasn't invited…

He'd also heard her tell Sam she wanted her own room.

Dean looked longingly at his box of Marlboroughs but thought maybe he'd pushed his luck enough for one day. Sam was already gonna ride his ass about what'd happened and if he sparked up in the room, it would just make it worse.

He lit one, regardless. The pair of them were probably bitching about him right now, anyway.

Dean sighed, swigging the liquor down, tensing up as it burned into his cut lip and he slammed the glass down impatiently. This was fucking ridiculous. What was wrong with him?

He needed to speak to Bobby.

Enough of this 'need to be alone' bullshit - they had to get back in the game and they needed him onboard, ready or not. The end of the world was on their doorstep yet _they _were busy acting out scenes from the fucking Walton's!

And he couldn't take a second out from his hiatus to pick up the God-damn phone?

Dean needed Bobby to put him straight on a few things, sort out the crap in his head and stop him acting like such a jerk.

He wasn't fooling anybody, especially himself. There was a reason for behaving like a fucking teenager and like it or not, the problem just got worse the more he tried to deny it. A few brief words from the old man, nothing too personal, just frank and everything would be clearer.

He walked over to his duffle and rummaged around for Bobby's letter. Pulling it out, he dialled the number RJ had left on the back.

The number dialed then fell off. He tried again, same thing. Dean studied his phone for a second as the screen displayed 'number not obtainable'. On calling the operator, he was told the number wasn't valid.

A sick feeling came over him.

With all this shit going on, they'd actually taken an awful lot on faith from this 'RJ' guy. Who the fuck was he, anyway? Something about it had never _really_ felt right but what with all the other drama, it'd been put to the back of his mind somehow…

Dean stood up, pulled on his jacket and grabbed the car keys as he tried hard to suppress a sudden, overwhelming sense of panic.

Jesus Christ -

Bobby…

* * *

Sam slid a sachet of mayo across to Jo and smiled. "Trust me, Dean will be pissed as hell that we left him behind," he laughed. She squirted it all on her double cheese burger then spread it round with her finger, bringing it up to her mouth with relish. "Hungry, huh?"

She looked over at him. "Beating the crap out your brother uses up a lot of calories, what can I say." She took a huge bite and Sam leant back in his chair, arm spread across the backrest, casually.

"You really _are_ tough, aren't you? " She raised an eyebrow questioningly, mouth full to capacity. "… I mean, I've always known you came from good stock but, Jesus - the way you ended that guy today and then stood up to Dean? That was hard core, Jo. But look at you - just water off a ducks back."

She smiled and his heart tugged. If he thought it was bad before, seeing her handle herself like that had just compounded his feelings for her. She'd really proved her stuff, strong, diligent, getting the job done. A true Hunter.

Ellen would've been proud.

"_You_ just like the fact that Dean got his balls busted by a girl. Twice." she said dipping a french fry into a dollop of ketchup. "But seriously, Sam, I told you I wouldn't take any more of his shit. And that Marley guy was a sick fuck. He deserved to go down like that, the crap he put my mom through. Do you know he told her he'd rape me even if she paid him what we owed? As _interest_ on the loan."

Sam shook his head, horrified. "No wonder you didn't hesitate."

"Son of a bitch has been like a fucking virus. You know how much we owed? Three hundred bucks."

"What? Who'd he work for?" Sam took a fry from her plate.

"Asshole up in Fresno. Drug dealer. We needed some cash to get ammo and this guy showed up, trunk full of shotguns ,willing to part with them on tick. Should have known it was too good a deal but, we really didn't have much choice. Bobby went crazy of course, said he'd have sorted us out with the money but mom… she was too proud. Rather owe a shitty criminal than a friend, you know?" She pushed the plate away wiping her fingers on a napkin.

"I wish you and her'd known better times, Jo, I really do." Sam leant forward and took her hand, his thumb rubbing over her bruised knuckles. "This life sucks, man. Be nice to think one day things could get better for all of us, huh?"

She nodded clenching her other hand around his affectionately.

Dean gave an exaggerated cough as he appeared round their booth. Both looked up at him as Jo immediately pulled away her hands, placing them in her lap.

"Sorry," he said, looking sheepish and more than a little awkward, "… but I think there's trouble. We gotta go find Bobby."

All three made for the exit, Sam leaving a twenty on the counter.

* * *

For a second, just a split second, Bobby could see …

Finally, he could see that this was wrong and he had to get out.

Where were his boys?

Why'd they not come for him?

Finding it harder and harder to hold on…

Please, Boys - come get me.

…please…

* * *

They'd been driving for eight hours with only the briefest of bathroom stops. Dean thought it best if the Impala didn't revisit the 'Valley Motel' region again even though this would've carved a good chunk of time off their journey. They couldn't take any risks that might slow them up in getting to Bobby. Where ever the hell he was. Jo had questioned whether they should be panicking at this stage without more evidence to suggest something was wrong but both Sam and Dean knew Bobby wouldn't have left without a contact number and this RJ character, it transpired, was anything but contactable.

The number hadn't checked out anywhere on the grid, even using their FBI contact to check through older mobile phone accounts leading back to ten years ago. A long shot, but enough to confirm that RJ was not what he claimed to be - no number like or even close to the one he left them was a valid caller ID. So either Bobby'd set this up as a dead end - not likely - or something was wrong and someone didn't want them looking for him. So they were headed back to the warehouse - the only lead they had right now.

All three of them were too ashamed to even consider the possibility that they'd let this happen.

Dean yawned and lit up, opening the window and turning up track 4 very slightly. Sam was asleep but looking in the rear view he could see Jo, eyes wide, staring out the window into nothing. He wondered what he should say.

"You want one of these? Might help?" Dean held an unlit cigarette over his shoulder. Jo slowly turned to look at him.

"There are enough things likely to kill me Dean, I don't wanna add to the list if I can help it," she said dismissively and looked back out the window again.

Dean took back his offering and placed it in the cup holder. "Yeah - sorry." he said, lamely. He continued to watch her as he tried to think of something else to say.

"You wanna pick something to listen to? Sam's got some …" he swallowed, "...Coldplay… in his duffel if you'd prefer …?"

She met his gaze again but said nothing, her mouth narrow and un amused.

"No? Okay then." His turn to look away.

"You got something to say, Dean, I suggest you say it, cos when we get there we're gonna need to be focused on the job." She sounded business like and professional and Dean almost felt intimidated.

He breathed out definitively. "Yeah, I got something to say." Jo looked at him expectantly and again he couldn't keep the eye contact with her.

"Look. What I said to you before? I'm sorry. I was out of line. I've been pretty much out of line since you arrived and haven't made things easier with your mom and all. I realise that and… like I said… I apologise. " He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jo was staring back at him, silently. "And you and Sam - it's nice. It's… good that you are getting on so well. He does all that stuff better than I ever would. So, you know. Good for you. Both of you. You have my blessing."

"Your _blessing_? "Jo nearly choked out the word.

"Well, you know - I think it's okay. You and Sam. Together. I won't get in your way, is all." He looked down at Sam who was still out for the count.

"_That's _what this was all about? Me and Sam?" she said quietly.

"No! Well yeah, maybe, a little. I don't know. Look I've said I'm sorry okay? Can we just move on now, huh? No more uncomfortable silences, it's doing my fucking head in." He tried to light a smoke but his Zippo wouldn't catch. "God damn it," he grumbled and pushed in the Impala's lighter. But it wouldn't stay in and after several goes, got stuck. "Fuck it!" Dean shouted and Sam stirred. But he just moved round uncomfortably then his breathing became slow and shallow once again.

Jo pushed herself forward so she was closer to the front seat. Dean could just feel her breath against his neck and the pit of his stomach clenched as he tried not to think about how her being this near made him feel.

"Dean?"

"Yeah." He held his breath.

"I'm not with Sam."

"But …"

"I'm _not_ with Sam."

"Oh."

Jo moved back in her seat and although Dean expected she would find his eyes again, he saw her facing back out the window. He tried the Zippo once more and this time it lit straight away. He reached for a smoke, taking an extra long drag.

Sam thought he'd better give it a few more moments before he 'woke' in case they realised he'd heard the whole thing.

And even though he'd known in his heart that Jo had no feelings for him, the gut-wrenching disappointment and enormous sense of loss was overwhelming.

He also felt angry.

_Really_ angry.

Why was everything always about _Dean?_


	14. Chapter 14

Dark Times

Chapter Fourteen

As they gathered various weapons from the trunk of the Impala, Dean turned to Jo. When he opened his mouth however she interrupted, finger pointing at him sternly. "Don't even _think_ about telling me to stay in the car, Dean. Or I _will _punch you again." She leaned over, grabbed a sawn-off and checked the knife in her belt.

Dean looked at Sam, eyes wide, hand spread questioningly, but he just shrugged back at him. "You heard her. You're the one who created this monster, dude, not me." Jo smiled and put another box of rounds in her holdall.

He continued to stare at his younger brother. Sam was pissed about something 'cos he knew _that_ tone very well. "What crawled up your ass, Sammy?"

Paying no attention to him whatsoever, Sam moved away towards the large gated entrance. "Jo, you wanna check the back edge and behind those two tanks? I'll do a sweep round back and we'll meet over by the red containers. Dean, you're on your own."

"What? Why?" He wasn't really liking Sam's new attitude - and now he was being told to go in alone? Not a problem, he just didn't like being _told_.

"Just remember why we're here and focus, okay Dean? And before you go off all irritated, let's agree on our approach if this RJ guy _does_ show up."

"Kick his ass and ask questions later?" Jo suggested.

"Get's my vote. Let's do it." Sammy cocked his shotgun with one hand and moved away, Jo turning across the back of him heading for her area.

Dean stayed put. "Hey. Would somebody mind filling me in on what's going on here? Why do I get the feeling I'm not wanted at this party?" he pouted.

The two of them didn't even stop.

Rolling his eyes Dean followed anyway. What was the fucking point? Sam was right - now wasn't the time to throw a fit. Bobby was the only important thing. He couldn't resist having a small dig though. "I'll be over in the north side. If anyone's interested." He shouted as he clambered over the gate and ran off to the right.

There was no moon tonight and the light was worse than poor. Dean moved swiftly across the concreted lot, in and out of corners and dark shadows between the heavy, metal containers, doing the thing he knew best. It felt good to get back to hunting, he just wished the goal wasn't so personal. If they had - God forbid - left Bobby here somewhere, who knows what state he'd be in now. Dean shuddered slightly with guilt.

If he is here - what the hell could've happened to him?

Up ahead his flashlight caught the hand rail at the top of a stairwell. Hidden behind a half opened door, it was just inside one of the smaller warehouse buildings.

Dean didn't remember seeing this before. Looking closer at the small building he noticed that the roof looked anything but rainproof and he was pretty sure it wasn't structurally sound either.

That meant there was a good chance it was an ideal venue for the things _they _usually tracked.

Inside water dripped from a pipe above his head and he waved the torch from left to right, trying to get a clear picture of what was ahead. The beam picked out missing treads on the iron staircase that sank away just in front of him.

He could hear a fluorescent lamp buzzing somewhere in the distance but couldn't see any of it's light. If there was a light then there may be someone down there. Maybe RJ.

He moved quietly now, wanting to keep the element of surprise on his side. However, as he neared the bottom, his feet suddenly disappeared in a foot of freezing cold water - cold enough for a sharp intake of breath and a very rude word pertaining to the most intimate part of the female anatomy to escape him.

Fifteen feet away through the pooled water was another door, with a large exit sign stuck to the frame above. He squelched up the four steps that took him to the threshold. It opened easily and he slipped inside, shotgun first. The buzzing florescent lamp illuminated a room twenty-five or thirty feet across.

As he did an initial sweep his 'spidey-sense' told him something wasn't right. There was something in here with him.

What could have been an old truck seat faced away from him over the other side. A slight sound, almost inaudible, came from there and he brought his gun up in anticipation. Whatever was in here with him was sitting in that fucking seat.

As he closed in, he noticed a clear plastic tube hanging from an overhead pipe, leading down from what looked like a blood bag. There was something terribly familiar about this…

Then the horror of what he saw nearly knocked him on his ass.

"Jesus Christ, Bobby!"

Dean dropped to his knees, throwing down his gun, grabbing the old man's limp frame and pulling him towards the edge of the seat. He gently removed the IV line from his neck and checked for any sign of life.

"Please be alive …please …please …Bobby …come on…"

He felt sick with panic but could already hear his father's voice in his head;

_Keep it together, son - do your job - don't let your emotions allow you to make mistakes - be a soldier, Dean - keep the situation in under control - _

Right.

He searched his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. "Sam? I've got Bobby. Call 911, basement, third warehouse, north side." He hung up and leaned into Bobby again, trying to find a pulse, or hear a breath. He'd been drained for days, a week, longer? His sullen yellow cheeks and dehydrated mouth hanging open.

Dean knew what'd done this. Sam had been right all along, there was a Djinn in town. But why the fuck had Bobby come back here alone?

He knew the answer to that before he'd finished asking it. Bobby had left them in bad shape, taking Ellen's murder real hard. He'd gone looking for a hunt as a way to deal with that. Dean could totally relate. He'd lost count of how many things he'd killed while grieving.

Please God, don't let this be another family member I have to bury…

"Bobby - can you hear me?" Dean thought he felt him move very slightly against his chest. He pulled back a little, holding Bobby's face and saw his eyelids flicker. "Bobby! It's me man, I'm here. Sam too, we're gonna get you outta here, Bobby, just hang in there, okay?" Dean looked round him, aware that the thing that did this may still be around.

Bobby opened one eye just a crack as he let out a long rasping moan. "It's okay, Bobby, I promise - it's all gonna be okay." Dean said as reassuringly as he could while inside yelling _where the fuck are Sam and the paramedics? _

Bobby looked as though he was trying to say something and Dean put his ear close to him.

"You took your God-damn time …Princess! " he whispered, coughing out the last part and Dean smiled, pulling the older man into him for warmth.

"Son of a bitch was smart, Bobby. Morphed into some old guy and told us you'd gone underground, needed some space. He was convincing, I'll give him that. Knew shit about you, about Dad. I can't believe we bought it Bobby, but we did. So help me, we all fucking did."

"Too busy trying to bed the Blonde, that's your trouble." Bobby coughed. "Took your mind …" cough, " …off the job." Cough.

"You're right. My head's been so crazy full of this shit, I left you here. Damn it, you coulda died Bobby."

"Still could if that friggin' ambulance takes any longer …"

Dean shook his head, feeling the full weight of what'd happened here. He'd broken the one rule Dad said should never _ever_ be broken when you're a hunter - _don't_ get involved with any woman you're not prepared to leave the next morning. This thing with Jo had gotten out of hand and needed to be sorted out. Once and for all. It ends today.

They both looked up as Sam appeared. "Bobby!" He knelt down beside Dean looking anxious. "Thank God. Jo's waiting outside for the ambulance - they said they'd be minutes, we're not far out from town."

"Wait - you left her alone out there? Sam, there's a Djinn here!"

"Yeah, and she can handle herself, Dean." Sam bought a bottle of water up to Bobby's lips. "You hang in there, big guy, they're coming."

Dean sat back on his haunches, relieved that someone else was here to help but angry at the same time. Angry at himself for letting this happen, angry at Sam for …well being Sam, but most of all angry that somehow he'd allowed his feelings to get in the way. Like just now. The first thing he'd thought was; go protect Jo. This was gonna get him or all of them fucking killed.

The one thing he'd never felt insecure about was being a good hunter. The best even. But this? Leaving Bobby to die in some damp basement 'cos he was too damn occupied elsewhere?

Unacceptable.

He made up his mind that once Bobby was safely in the hospital he was gonna end this and get back to the way it was, the way _he_ was, before.

* * *

As Bobby's eyes closed again, the nurse shooed them all from his room, saying he needed rest and several more transfusions. Sam had successfully batted the usual questions whenever they needed hospital treatment - how did this happen, how do you explain this etc.

They gathered outside the room and continued to watch through the window. All three were quiet and withdrawn.

Dean eventually broke the silence. "I'm gonna head back to that basement, find the son of a bitch who did this. When Bobby comes round again tell him I'll see him later."

He went to go but Sam's arm came across blocking his path. "Okay - how about you _don't_ do that and we _all _go once Bobby's in the clear?"

Dean's eyebrow flew up. "You don't think I can handle it?"

Sam breathed out patiently. "Yes, Dean, I think you can handle it but why take the risk? We all want a piece of that thing - it's not just you who feels bad you know." Sam looked at Jo who nodded in agreement.

Dean's eyes moved between the two of them. "Oh, so the Sam & Jo consensus overrules everything yet again! God, you know what? Never mind. I'm going back to the motel. Anything changes here, I wanna know."

Sam turned to Jo. "Why don't you go back too? We can take it in shifts to stay here in case he wakes up."

"I'll come back around 4pm." He nodded and as she turned to leave she saw Dean was already half way down the corridor. "I'll make sure Mr Gung-ho doesn't change his mind on the way and pay that Djinn a visit after all, huh."

She followed him out and walked across the car park to the Impala. Dean didn't unlock the passenger side when he got in and she struggled with the door leaning down to look at him through the window.

He peered back at her sulkily. "Open the door." He looked for a minute like he'd drive off but then thought better of it. She got in and he lit a smoke taking a long drag then blowing the fumes across her face.

Jo didn't react. He started the ignition and moved off, switching on the cassette playing Let it Bleed by the Stones.

Half way down the road Jo turned to face him and said, "Okay, so we _really_ need to have sex tonight, Dean."


End file.
